


Always a Yes; Unless it’s a No.

by bitwicre



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Anal Sex, Andrew and Neil are fucking, Character Development, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Healing from trauma, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, In a shocking turn of events its the sex that leads to the feelings., Introspection, Is this edgeplay?, M/M, Past Rape/Non-con, Porn with Feelings, Post-Canon, Praise Kink, Soft Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard, The author realises that when you write your own porn, Who knew?, and then theyre really not, for someone who reads alot of smut, i dont seem to be able to tag it, is this breathplay, or do i just use the word breath alot?, please suggest tags, smut that ends in frustration, well first panic, you get to include every one of your kinks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-20
Updated: 2019-02-20
Packaged: 2019-11-01 07:47:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17863271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bitwicre/pseuds/bitwicre
Summary: Andrew is driving Neil insane with lust and then suddenly— there’s angst. Also some character development. Then its real soft and sickly sweet.





	1. In Flames We Go

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Not Damsels, not Knights](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8284174) by [my_unlikely_hero](https://archiveofourown.org/users/my_unlikely_hero/pseuds/my_unlikely_hero). 



> This story takes place in the Not Damsels, Not Knights world. Thats the canon im working from, obviously the dirty stuff needs no context. But in the chapters after, references and allusions are made to events from that story. Mostly if you know that basic premise you can riddle it out. Takes place post that story/post canon.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let’s jump straight in. It’s been months. Theyre about to fuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: In my attempt to find a title for this last chapter i seem to have, uh, [ made a playlist ](https://open.spotify.com/user/1214381520/playlist/2SoPehEu3opBsOGtdVC3Xq?si=VwXA4JFVRhi0spS6MeO8yQ) for this shortass fic? Def takes longer to hear than to read the whole thing lol.

Neil’s barely managed to close the door before Andrew pushes him against it, mouth on his, hands clutching at his waist. Undecided about whether to clutch at his shirt or rip it off. 

Neil’s breath is already ragged from running up the three flights of stairs to Andrew’s apartment and he has to gasp a breath every few seconds. His lips never break contact with Andrew’s and they seem to breathe into each other. 

Neil is clutching Andrews neck, cradling his jaw, fingertips still tingling from the cold outside. Andrew’s hands decide on their course. Pulling Neil’s jacket clean off, throwing it to the floor and then Andrew’s hands snake up to clasp his hair. He clutches Neil’s curls in one hand and roughly pulls back. 

Neil’s head hits the door, but Andrews hand takes all the impact. Neil’s thankful for the cushion, he’s just finished the last game of the season. It was brutal and he’s sore everywhere, but he’s finally back in Andrew’s hands. It feels like everything is clear and sharp. And then he’s kissing down the side of Neil’s neck. It’s wet and borders on harsh. Desperate. And Neil tries to crane his head because he wants more. 

He pants and his chest is heaving already. He feels like a star suddenly gone super nova. His hands and feet are still chilled but his face is flush. He feels cold and too hot all at once. And then theres teeth on his neck and he moans, which only encourages Andrew further. He’s pressed against the door for a long time. He loses track of time because theres only heat and Andrew and it’s been too long since they were together. 

Shit, he’s gonna have to cover up at practise... He begins the thought but it trails off as he grabs at Andrew’s hair. Theres just Andrew and Andrews mouth and oh— he gasps as andrew bites at his ear and then trails kisses all down to his collarbone. 

“Andrew, Andrew,” he whispers. Fuck, he’s barely arrived and he already sounds wrecked beyond belief. He’d be embarrassed, except that this is Andrew. “Bedroom, bed. Let’s—“ he doesnt finish before Andrew grunts into his neck and grabs at his wrist, hauling him quickly behind him. Neil’s grin is bursting from his face as he is unceremoniously flung onto the bed. “Take your clothes off, Josten.” Andrew growls, he steps to the night stand to grab a bottle of lube. Throwing it on the bed. 

Neil’s already kicking off his shoes. He crosses his arms at his shirt’s hem to pull it off... and then somehow gets it stuck at his neck. He makes a decidedly unsexy whimper and Andrew pulls it all the way off. “God, Josten, you're useless.” The insult is somehow marred by the way his breath leaves him. 

Neil’s pink in the cheeks for a second and then he lets out a sigh of a laugh. “Stop calling me Josten, if you're gonna fuck me.” Andrews hands are trailing along his torso now. He’s still all dressed, but he was only in pijamas when Neil walked in. 

“Is that what you want?” He moves to take his own shirt off. “For me to fuck you? Should i get your pretty cock all worked up with my mouth? Eat you out till you’re begging me to cum?” He whispers into Neil’s ear, as his hands find his nipples and pull, twist. Gently at first and then harder. 

He trails hot kisses all up and down his torso. Sucking hear and there. Neil makes a choking sound and then moans. “Andrew,” he gasps as he scratches at his back, fingers digging in, trying to find some purchase and his hips buck a little. It doesnt seem on purpose, erratic and more desperate than usual. Andrew can feel how hard he’s getting, even through Neil’s jeans and his own sweats. 

Andrew shoves his shoulders back. More of a suggestion than direction, but he falls onto his back easily, whispering Andrews name in between heavy breathing. Andrew kisses his way down Neil’s body a few more times. Dragging his teeth and tongue down all the heavy scarring that litters his skin. He’s done this enough times that he knows where to be gentle and where he can be rougher. 

He reaches his waist and slows down, because he’s been waiting so long to do this. He’s had weeks to think about it and imagine it. Late at night, his memory lets him conjure up incredibly realistic fantasies, but with Neil the real thing is so much— just incomparably better. 

He knows Neil doesnt get off like he does. Says he cant and doesnt want to when Andrew isnt there. But sometimes when its been too long since theyve seen each other or been able to steal some time away to whisper dirty things too each other over the phone, Neil will try to think about Andrew and make himself come. He wonders if Neil tried it this time. Neil was in finals and they hadnt seen each other in months. He thinks of Neil, all alone and getting hard just from thinking about him. 

He runs his fingers along the edge of his waistband. Dipping in and out. Touching his skin and then pulling back as he takes Neil’s socks off and brushes his other hand along his ankles, under the rough material. He keeps this up for a while. Sometimes using his tongue, or nipping lightly in the more sensitive spots. He takes his time. 

Neil’s begging now with only his name. And then Andrew nuzzles against Neil’s dick, over his jeans, drags his nose and lips along the outline of his rock hard erection, pressing just hard enough. And Neil whimpers— breath leaving him all at once and he cries out, pathetically. 

Andrew finally takes pity on him and removes his jeans, stripping them off as fast as he can but not touching him, yet. 

“Move back,” he says, low and almost menacing. He’s also gotten hard, but he’s too busy thinking about driving Neil to the brink right now. The words are barely out of his mouth before Neil crawls back, “Oh god, just touch me already. Andrew, I need—“ he doesnt finish before Andrew crawls over him. On all fours and kisses him. Pushing his tongue roughly into his mouth and Neil bites hard, almost drawing blood.

Andrew pulls away, so he can see the flush and blown pupils. He looks feverish, and when Andrew caresses his cheek, lightly, with the back of his fingers, running down one of his knife scars; Neil’s mouth goes wide, his eyes flutter and for a moment Andrew think he might come right there and then. 

He licks lightly over the burns on his cheek, pressing slow kiss there, lightly. “Enough,” Neil almost sounds properly pissed off, “I cant take anymore.” He’s pushed up on his elbows, “Do something already, anything.” 

Andrew’s insulted he’s still coherent enough to be mouthy. He pushes him back down with a kiss, grabs at his jaw to turn his head. Neil’s breath comes out in a huff. His other hand trails along Neil’s side and hip. Andrew works his mouth against the soft bit of skin behind his ear and then breathes into Neil’s ear. Careful to keep his hips high enough out of reach of Neil’s. 

“I’m not touching you tonight,” Neil’s so worked up he’s trembling, and that it sends a thrill tingling across Andrew’s limbs and sharply in his groin. 

“I’m gonna fuck you nice and slow and youre going to be good for me and come; from just my cock inside you. Do you think you can do that for me? Come when I tell you, when I’m deep inside you? What do you say?” Andrew smooths Neils hair back, tracing the flush of blood and the white outlines of scar tissue. His light eyes are only half open; and his parted lips inviting. “You're so pretty, Neil. Gorgeous when you need to be fucked.”

Neil takes a sharp breath that then trembles on it’s way out. He’s nodding quickly, his arms give out and he falls back onto the bed arching his head back and grunting weakly. Andrew kisses along his jaw. He stops to ask, against the dip of his neck, and he asks in the most innocent tone he could ever manage. “Yes?” 

And Neil swears he feels Andrew is grinning, much too satisfying again with him self. But Neil feels like his insides are going to combust and like his chest is going to explode, his pulse is racing harder than from any Exy game he’s ever played. His very bones seem melted and theres lightning flowing through every nerve ending. Impossibly hot where he’s being touched and icy cold where he isn't. 

“Yes,” he gasps, “‘Drew. Yes, yes, yes.” He’s nearly shouting, “Fuck me already. Need it. Need you.” 

Andrew makes quick work of reaching over the bed, grabbing the lube and coating his fingers with it. Neil closes his eyes and tries to calm his breathing. Andrew gives him a moment to recover from the delicious torture he’s been mercilessly inflicting. It’s fun and satisfying to see Neil completely out if control.

Then he grabs underneath Neil’s knee with his dry hand, bends it up and towards him, pulling Neil even closer. He doesnt touch his dick at all, but trails his fingers from his balls down to his hole and traces it. Pushing a finger in and out. Going deeper every time and then pulling out to tease him. 

Neil’s thrown his arm over his face. He’s biting his lip raw and when Andrew finally, finally hits his prostate, and starts massage there ever so gently, Neil groans and cries out like he’s being filmed. Andrew crawls up Neil’s body and reaches to pull his bottom lip free. Neil’s mouth goes slack so Andrew slides two fingers in. Neil slides his tongue down the length of them and sucks gently. 

Andrew cant help himself. He loses control for an aching moment. He’s straddling one of Neil’s legs and he lowers himself on it, rutting against him. He’s still in his sweatpants. He wasn't wearing any briefs underneath so the friction is enough to give him some relief. He cant help himself, not with Neil so lost in this pleasurable agony Andrew’s concocted. He just cant help it. 

“Yes, yes, yes, yes.” Neil hurries to say, slurring his words. As if Andrew’s sudden relief was his own. 

God, Neil’s so fucking perfect. He decides to tell him so. Andrew pulls his fingers out from Neil’s hole, massaging against his prostate roughly as he does. Neils just babbling now, Andrew’s name and some cursing, in every language he knows. Andrew moves, nearly pouncing on Neil, knees on either side of his hips.

He’s grabbing both sides of Neil’s face, the tips of Andrew’s fingers lost in his hair. His fingers are still slick and the lube mixes with the sweat from Neils skin. It filthy and it’s so, so arousing. Andrew is kissing him with no restraint. And Neils’s still making incoherent sounds into his mouth, breathing him in as Andrew pushes his tongue further into Neil’s mouth, then traces his lips with it when he needs to come up for air.

“Andrew, Andrew,” Neil’s begging now, and Andrew’s going to give him what he wants. But first...

“Look at you, Neil. You’re so pretty underneath me, you're practically gagging for it.” Andrew’s teasing is somewhat ruined by the breathy way his voice comes out. But it’s having the desired effect regardless, so he keeps going. “What is it you want Neil?” He’s pressing one of Neil’s shoulders into the mattress, without much force, but effectively. “What do you need from me?” He tugs at Neil’s hair, playing with it, lightly. As if he was lulling him to sleep, instead of working him up into the heights of ecstasy. “What can I give you?”

“Need— Drew, I,” he’s incapable of forming sentences. Theres something that sounds like German. He’s so hard it’s physically painful. But it’s like the bruises on his neck. All throbbing and calling for attention but the more Andrew holds back the better it feels when it hurts. Neil wants to be good for Andrew. 

He makes more noises and and Andrew starts kissing him again. Soft, barely kisses. “Use your words.” He thinks Neil might start begging in earnest. Andrew wouldn't even mind if he said ‘please’ right now; in this moment, it would be okay. He’s blissfully existing solely for this man on his bed. Anything, and everything else is far, far away. 

But he doesn't think Neil will, he’s hasn't heard Neil say the word please in front of him in years. Not once. He thought Neil might also have a similar distaste for it, but he’s overheard him use it with others. Andrew’s got him where he wants him, half out of his mind. And he wont even say it now, when Andrew’s worked him up worse than ever before. 

He’s gasping, head turned to that his words vibrate against Andrews wrist, “Need it, Andrew. I cant take it.” He grabs at his arm, “I need you inside me. Your cock. Right now. Right now, Andrew. I cant anymore. Fuck me already. You... I, I nee-.”

“Shh, shh,” he drags his finger over Neil’s lips. The bottom one dragging down. It’s bleeding, just a bit. And Andrew licks it away. “Okay, okay. You’ve been so good for me. Haven't you?” Neil’s shut his eyes and is nodding frantically, sweat glistening on his brow. “Such a good boy for me, right? So patient and willing.”

Andrew’s moving around has tugged his waistband down his hips and now pulls his pants the rest of the way down, below his knees and then kicks them off. He palms himself a couple of times. Gasping at the way it sends shocks all over his body. 

He guides himself to Neil’s entrance and rubs the tip over his asshole. “You've been so patient, Neil.” Andrew grabs a flat pillow lying against the headboard and nudges Neil’s hips up. His dick is hard and red, falling against his abdomen. He arches his back obediently as Andrew slips the pillow under his hips. “‘ve been so good. Open up for me, Neil.” And Neil bends his knees further, and parts his legs even wider. Andrew guides himself in. 

Andrew pushes into him with one long, slow but hard thrust. And Neil is silent for a moment before he chokes on a moan. And he starts rambling again, “Yes, yesyes, yes, yes-yes.” Andrew rests one hand at Neil’s side and leans into him. Neil grabs at his wrist and spread his fingers. They dig in, not very hard, but Andrew can feel his nails on the scars there and it hurts so, so deliriously good. 

“Thank you, thank-you-thankyou.” Neil is saying and thats something he’s never said to Andrew. He repeats it in a couple of languages. It shocks Andrew and he feels a strange sort of warmth running through him like the blood his racing heart is pumping through him now.

“You’re so good for me, Neil. Taking my cock so well. Look how filled up and stretched open you are.” Neil’s mumbling yeses and crying around his name. He’s warm and pliant, but theres an electric buzz that seems to be radiating from his skin. It’s intoxicating. Neither of them are going to last much longer. Andrew cant take anymore, and Neil’s way past feverish. 

So he starts moving in and out of Neil, picking up the pace. He doesn't let himself get frantic. It’s hard and slow but strong. He knows Neil likes being filled up, and likes feeling well-fucked. He thrusts into him, hard and bottoming out into him with every stroke. He build up slowly, barely in control. “Look at how good you look with me inside you. Taking it so well and willingly.”

“Oh, god. Oh god, Andrew.” He moans and meaningless noises are spilling out of his mouth. Half words, half sounds of pleasure. 

Andrew keeps thrusting his whole cock in and out of Neil’s ass. He bends and buries his face into Neil’s neck and it pushes him somehow deeper. Neil groans and gasps. Andrew slams his hips down, slow but hard. 

“Stop.” Neil’s voice cuts through some of the roaring in Andrew’s ears and he follows the sudden order before his mind even registers what Neil has said. Freezing in the middle of his movement. He’s still buried halfway inside Neil, and quickly pushes himself up to look at his face. 

“Stop, no. Stop Andrew.” Neil’s breathing hard, still flushed but eyes suddenly wide open and clear. Andrew’s whole body freezes at the word. At the ‘no’ that’s come out of his mouth, and in the next heartbeat he’s pulling out and stumbling off the bed.

Neil’s sat half up, looking at him with shocked, glassy eyes and Andrew has absolutely no idea what to do. What he’s done. Where he’s gone wrong. 

Neil scoots back and off the pillow. He shoves his knees together and grabs at them. He shudders, eyes still locked on Andrew’s, theres only shock, and then puts his head down his knees. His hands move to clutch at his hair and he’s yanking at it. Andrew’s breathing is still hard. He’s completely frozen in place. 

“Neil?” Is all he can manage. He needs to know what to do. He doesn't dare get any closer to him. Should he leave? What the fuck’s happened. Neil’s said no before. Especially at the beginning. But always before they’d started anything. Or before they were both totally naked. And he hadn’t done anything wrong any of those times, nothing to directly cause it. Neil had just not wanted to continue. 

And now Neils curled on the bed, not meeting his eyes, where not even a minute ago Andrew had been fucking him, doing and saying so many things to him. A white hot shock goes through him. A cold terror that kills any lingering arousal in his body. And Neil still doesn't say anything. 

Neil has never wanted Andrew to leave his side. All the other times he’s stopped them having sex. “Neil?” But this feels different. He should— “Neil, do you want me to leave?” Its an endless moment where theres nothing. He most definitely doesn't want to leave Neil alone. He wants to make this better somehow. He needs to know what he did wrong. Where he misunderstood. But right now what he wants is unimportant. 

He almost misses the word. It’s hardly more than a whisper. He’s turned his head to the side, still resting on his knees, “Yes. Andr— go away?” His voice cracks on Andrew’s name, he says yes like its a question. And the words are so faint, he isn't sure he heard right. Neil wants him to leave. 

Theres nothing Andrew wants to do less in all the world than leave Neil alone right now. But Neil’s just told him to. He bends down and reaches to grab his sweats. Not daring to take a single step forward. Then he leaves the room. And he doesnt look back at Neil as he shuts the door behind him.


	2. The Ice in My Bones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neil will not let himself be blown away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you don’t care to read the other story the basic premise is that Neil wasn’t just tortured but also raped at the Nest; everything else is pretty much canon.

Neil is reeling. He has no idea what just happened and he’s gone from being as close to another person as is physically possible, to being completely alone. 

He feels empty. He’s still stretched out from where Andrew had been inside him just moments ago, his dick is still half hard. Although he’s away from that electric, lusty haze that Andrew had taken him to. The shock of panic that had gone through him shattered it all like a violent gust of wind over dense fog. 

He hadnt thought sex could get any better with Andrew. But it had tonight. And now—stop thinking. Stop thinking about it — about him— right now. 

He pulls at his hair again and starts counting. He gets to a hundred in three languages a few times, and then lowers his left leg. He doesn't dare move the right side of his body right now. He cant stand the idea of feeling it again. The stinging shock in his hip. If he has to feel it again, he might lose it. 

He cant bear to think it even. He shudders and tries to breathe in through his mouth and out his nose. One hand is still clutching at his hair, a pulling thats dangerously close to ripping. 

He drops his other hand to the bed. The comforter is filled with feathers- down. And he feel it deflate under the weight of his hand, the fabric is soft and smooth. Not rough, thin and scratchy like it was back when. And he’s not on cold floor. Its warm in the room. But it feels cold without— . He wont think about him— about that. He doesnt know how long he stays there. But finally he feels somewhat sturdy. 

He opens his eyes. The room is in shadows, the shutters are down but propped totally open and moonlight shines through. Its not dark. He focuses on the light on the window panes until his breathing is back to normal. Then he holds his breath and a traitorous whimper escapes him. He’s scared shitless. He finds some vestige of stubborn will and puts his leg down. 

Nothing. It doesnt hurt. The muscle is a little sore, but thats not new. Theres no stinging in his hip. He yanks the pillow out from under his legs. He slowly inches off the bed. He puts his feet on the ground and pushes his luck. He stands up. 

And his heart lurches as the pain runs through his whole body. Starting in his right hip. It’s not the pain itself that sends his heart racing, but the memory he knows is coming. 

He hasn't cried in years. He remembers the last time he really did. It was snowing, on the roof and he was with — He lets out something like a dry sob, he’d rather cry here all alone than finish that thought. Theres no tears though, it’s more like gasping for air. 

He falls to his knees barely able to wrest himself from slamming into the ground by clutching the edge of the bed. He will not let his memory swallow him up, no matter what. But he has to get to the bathroom now. He pulls himself up on his good leg and steels himself as best he can. He puts weight on this right side. Theres some pain. But its not as bad. He wants to cry in relief now. If it doesn't get worse than this, he wont have to pull himself out of the black hole of his fucked up brain at all. He wont fall in. Just don't let it be worse than this, he pleads to no one. 

He takes two, long but deliberate steps. By the second one, its less pain and more of a numb tingling. He scrunches his eyes and grimaces for a split second in relief. And then he walks all the way into the bathroom. He walks straight to the mirror and looks at himself. He looks into his own eyes, he flicks the light on and sees the blue. And the auburn. But he stares at the burns and they make him feel like he can grasp to control. He lets out a long breath he hadnt realised he was holding. “You're alright,” he says to himself. Barely a whisper, “You are going to be okay.” And he knows it’s true. 

He gives a weak laugh. Half relief, half amazement. He kept himself together. His mind is still in one piece. 

He’s still naked. He turns on the shower and rinses his body. Quickly, not bothering with soap. He’s quick to dry himself off. He fetches his pijama bottoms, not bothering with underwear and pulls them on. Then one of Andrew's long sleeve t-shirts. He’s not about to fall apart. But he’s not going to push.

There was a time when he would have, but he’s older now. He knows it would be a bad idea and he doesn't have anything to prove to himself. He even puts socks on. He moves the discarded clothing into the hamper. Then gets into bed, gingerly. Vigilant with his right side. 

He pushes down the cover so only his feet are under it as he sits against the headboard. Okay. 

He lets himself unfold his thoughts. He let’s himself think of Andrew, slowly. Andrew. This is his apartment, technically. Neil just flew in a earlier that day. He played the last game of the season. Then flew to Chicago to see Andrew. He had missed him so much. And they started getting hot and heavy the moment Neil arrived. He had been lavishing him with praise and attention, but not letting him come right away. Just thinking about it makes his heart beat faster. It had just been so amazing...

He controls himself. Andrew is outside. And now Neil is okay. And he needs to talk to him. The way Andrew had looked at him when Neil had stopped them so abruptly. He didn't want to see Andrew like that, ever. Horrified and scared. But not angry at all. Hollow somehow. 

He could fix this. He just had to explain and it would be fine. 

He doesn't shout, but he makes his voice loud “Andrew?”


	3. Between Wind and Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let’s get as soft as we can manage while in character. Theres angst, and reassurance all round. My, my— how far these two have come in their respective recoveries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These emotional hurt/comfort scenes are what i live for. I did try desperately to not get too ooc; but i strongly headcanon its been many years of therapy by the time theyre well into their professional careers, so there it is.

Andrew has been pacing in the living room. It’s been a half hour. At first he just stood in front of the door. Staring at it like it would somehow reveal the answer. It was all he could do not to press his ear to the door. Then he heard a sound. Like a gasp. And his hand had shot out to open the door. But he stopped himself. 

Neil didn't want him in there. So he turned and left the apartment. He didn't go anywhere. Just closed the unlocked door quietly and then sat in the hallway against it. He was shirtless, but he had grabbed the armbands from the kitchen counter. Not realising they were Neil’s until he was sitting in the hallway and pulling them on. It’s late, no one will see him. 

He spends ten minutes replaying every moment from when Neil stepped inside the apartment. To when he told Andrew to stop. It’s hard to do so without his body betraying him. But theres a nebulous guilt and fear that keeps the threatening arousal at bay. 

He replays every moment as clinically and coldly as he can manage. The problem is that nothing reveals itself to him. He still doesn't understand what happened. 

He supposes that nothing had to have happened. Neil was allowed to change his mind. He didn't need to have a reason. But he had seemed to like it. Maybe Andrew had gotten too carried away. Sex, penetrative sex between them wasn't new, but he had never gone about it like this before. Maybe he had been too controlling and Neil hadn't liked it. 

But he had never had trouble telling Andrew what he did and didn't like in bed. Often not knowing until Andrew tried it.

But this hadn't been like that; it hadn't been experimenting. And Andrew wasn't in the habit of lying to himself. Neil had stared at him like he was afraid of something. And then he hadn't wanted to look at him as he told Andrew to leave. Was it because he hadn't been sure if Andrew would? 

Andrew hadn't stopped completely the first time Neil had asked— had told him to. It had taken him four tries until Andrew had really stopped fucking him. 

He doesn't know what to do. He’ll do anything. He never wanted to hurt Neil. He had hurt him in the past, but he didn't believe in regret. And Neil had understood all the times Andrew had been cruel to him. Forgiven and forgotten in favour of staying, and standing by his side. And building a life together. 

And maybe now he had fucked it all up. This was one of his nightmares come to life. Literally. He had never told Neil about this fear. Only ever Bee. But the worst of it, when he slept, wasn't when it was Aaron under Drake or Neil under Riko. Or any other sick scenario. 

The worst was when it was Andrew doing the— When he had failed and become a rapist himself. 

Was that what had happened. No. No it couldn't be. He didn't want to hurt anyone like that, ever. He’d rather be the one hurt a million times over. But just because he hadn't intended to, didn't mean he hadn't. Blame, fault. They weren't the same thing. 

He needs to know. He cant demand anything from Neil. But he needs to know. He’s going to be sick. 

He hasn't felt so unsure and out of sorts in many years. He might believe in regret again. 

He goes back inside the apartment. Locks the door and starts pacing the kitchen and living room. What he wants is to drive, and drive, and drive. Or to smoke. 

But he cant bring himself to do any of that. To leave Neil alone, or somehow betray him by doing such things. 

So he paces. It’s been half an hour and then he hears it. At first he’s sure he he imagined it. But then Neil says it again, loud enough to be heard. 

“Andrew?” Coming from the room. Thats permission enough to enter. So he does. Bounding to the door. And then opening it and looking at Neil. He doesn't move towards him. Just haunts the doorway.  
Neil is dressed now. Like he doesn't want any part of his skin on display. But he is wearing one of Andrew’s shirts.

“It's okay,” he says, his voice weak. He pats the spot next to him on the bed. 

He doesn't move. Just because he thinks he wants Andrew near, doesn't mean he should be. If he’s done something, even if Neil wants to forgive or dismiss it like he has other things... he shouldn't and Andrew wont let him do it. 

“Come here,” he says it out loud. And Andrew moves closer. To the side of the bed Neil indicates. But makes no move to join him. 

“What happened?” the question leaves Andrews mouth before he can stop it. 

Neil closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. 

“You didnt do anything wrong, Andrew. I need you to believe that before I tell you.”

“Come to bed with me?” He doesn't come close to saying the word, but his eyes are full of unspoken pleading. 

“No.” Andrew doesn't think he could stand that. 

Neil’s shoulders sink and he closes his eyes again.

“You stopped when I told you to,” he opens his eyes and his gaze bores into Andrew. “The moment I thought that I wanted to stop, I said it out loud. And the moment I did, you stopped.” He nods his head at, looking for confirmation. “That’s what happened. Okay?”

Theres long silence. Andrew thinks through the words. Looking for where Neil is trying to play off something important. Trying to give more pieces of himself away that he should ever have to. 

“The moment you you thought it, you said it. That means you realised it. But did you feel like you wanted to stop before that?” Andrew thinks he’s got it right. Neil looks up kind of taken aback, his mouth opens and eyes go wide. And Andrew’s already getting ready to tell him that just because he didn't vocalise it, doesn't mean it’s nothing. Andrew should have been asking for consent more often. Been more explicit. Just been better for him and now—

Neil laughs. Not completely. But its definitely a sound of amusement or disbelief. “No, Andrew. Absolutely not. It was amazing. You were so good to me. I wanted it, badly. Everything was perfect. I said yes to it all because that’s a hundred percent what I felt.” He starts to ramble a bit and then catches himself. “Okay? Do you believe me?”

Andrew doesn't know. Theres something about Andrew having fucked up like this that makes sense. But Neil hasn't lied to him since... well since the beginning. And even then, not about the important things, not really. 

And Andrew wants to believe it so badly.

And so he let’s himself. Bee would be proud of him, the thought pops up obliquely. He’s not so sure. It might be because he’s weak and just wants to have Neil touching him again. Even if its through layers and layers of clothing. 

He steps forward and it’s worth it just to see the relief on Neil’s face. And theres no way Andrew hurt him, if he can be that relieved to see him come closer. 

He grabs Neil’s shirt from the floor where he had flung it earlier and puts it on. Neil waits patiently. He’s wearing long sleeves but maybe its only because Andrew has his armbands. So he pulls them off as he climbs into bed and hands them to him. Neil’s surprised but he just nods at Andrew and the reaches over to put them on his bedside table. Then he looks back at Andrew. Hes sitting with one leg bent, as from Neil as he can be. Neil sighs.

Andrew is waiting for another instruction. Maybe he believes that he did nothing wrong. But he realises he could have. It would be so easy to. 

“I got checked last night,” he says. Easy. It takes a moment for Andrew to understand what he’s saying. He nods when he understands the idiot is talking about his Exy game last night. His brain provides the memory. He saw it on tv, was able to watch it live since he didn't have any game of his own. Some overgrown, steroided asshole had checked him something bad against the wall. Neil had stood up moments later and kept playing. Which wasn't really an indication of how bad it had been, but he had been able to play the rest of the game. 

“I hurt my hip a bit,” he says, slowing down. Then it comes more readily, “It’s never gotten seriously injured, not really. But it also hasn't been the same since— since they dislocated it. My hip, I mean.”

Andrew can usually follow what Neil is saying. Understand what he means. But he’s a little lost right now. Its uncomfortable, he’s not used to it. 

Neil sign and closes his eyes, “When I went to— I mean, when I was at— at the... On Christmas.” The words fumble out but Andrew understands this time. 

His voice is flat and tone devoid of any feeling when he confirms it. “The Ravens. The dead ones.” The ones that gang raped him. Passed Neil around and took pictures of it. With Riko’s permission, when he was systematically torturing him. When he was at the Nest, because he had delusions of somehow protecting Andrew. Andrew realizes what else Neil has said. On christmas. Not over christmas break. On Christmas. He can just imagine what sick reason Riko did that for. And Andrew’s never been more glad someone is dead. Not Aarons mother, not even Drake. Or Nathan. 

Neil nods and opens his eyes, slowly. As if having to readjust to the non-existent light in the room. 

Theres something else that’s clear. “I did hurt you, then.” Neil winces. Because there it is. Andrew made his hip hurt when he was... when he was fucking him. Making it nice and hard because thats how he thought Neil liked it, or maybe thats just how Andrew likes it. He hurt him and put Neil back there. Back then. 

“No, Andrew. Stop it. I’m okay.” He’s fervent as he says it. “It barely hurt. And it wasn't your fault. I was sure I was okay. I played a whole game and it was just a little sore.” He scoots forwards and Andrew just stays completely still. “I didn't even have a flashback.” Andrew comes back to himself at that and Neil goes on, “I thought I might. The second I felt it, it was barely even pain. It was more like when you hit your elbow wrong. But I knew what might happen. Which is why we stopped, yeah?”

Andrew’s face is impassive. But Neil has enough emotion on display for the both of them at the moment. “I only made you leave because I was afraid that they would ruin this, somehow. They're dead and still fucking with me. And I didn't want you anywhere near the memory and I couldn't have something so good tainted by those pieces of shit. I couldn't even risk it. Thats the only reason I made you leave. Yeah? Im sorr-“

Suddenly Andrew is growling, “Don't you fucking dare finish that sentence.” Neils mouth is still open, but he just closes it and nods. 

“Okay.” He smiles. “But I want you to know that I really, really loved it. What was happening before all that. And I want to try again.” Andrew’s face goes hard and Neil is quick to clarify. “Not today. And maybe not soon. But I’ll tell you when my hip is healed for sure. And I’ll tell you yes as much as you need. Okay?” He offers Andrew his hands, palms up and Andrew acquiesces. Desperate to touch him despite everything. “I mean it Andrew. You're so good to me. And I will not have anything take that away from me, especially not because of them.”

And Andrew remembers saying something like that to Bee. Back when he was with Roland. And then again with Neil. After Drake and Proust. They hadn't been able to take this from him. He does understand, completely, and Neil sees it flash in his eyes. He nods at him and mouths ‘okay’. 

Then Andrew lets Neil pull him down into bed. They leave the blanket only somewhat covering their legs. Theres only one pillow on the bed. The other must be on the floor. But neither of them gets it. They just press close together. 

He looks over Neil’s face, wide open eyes, his hair is a mess, and a little damp along the ends. They both lay on their sides, drinking the sight of each other in.  
Andrew moves his hand before he can think about it. Stretches it halfway between them and says, “Can I-“ before he freezes. He’s about to pull back, when Neil nods and grabs his hand. 

“Yes, Andrew.” He pulls his hand to his hip. Neil’s hand stays over Andrew’s and he slips both of them beneath the waistband of his pijama bottoms, then he leaves Andrews hand there as he pulls them down. Just enough to expose his hip and nothing else. 

He remembers what it looked like. He can call up the image now. “It was all bruised purple. I didn't realise why.” Neil nods. “Your shoulder, too.”

He moves his hand to touch there and Neil shivers ever so slightly. Andrew trails back down to his exposed hip. He rubs at the spot, as lightly as he can manage. And Neil shivers again, but he’s smiling. Andrew keeps going, trailing his fingers back and forth. 

Neil sighs with undisguised pleasure. And Andrew feels lighter. 

He opens his mouth and Andrews tempted to kiss him quiet but he speaks first. “I never said thank you.” Andrew frowns. Neil’s train of thought has never been more disjointed. 

“For afterwards. Everything you did for me. Put me back together.” He’s talking about those early days. After the shitstain Raven.

“I told you. I didn't save you.” Andrew says darkly, a warning. 

“No,” Neil says easily. “You didn't save me. I know that. But you helped me pick up the pieces. No matter how many times I shattered apart. You helped pick up the pieces and hand them back to me. Until I could put myself back together.”

Andrew isn't going to accept thanks. But he nods his head. If Neil wants to say it. Thats okay. Neil seems to understand this. 

They just look at each other for a long time. Andrew feels old in a way he’s never felt before. Its not the bone weariness or the heavy weight of too much shitty life heaped on him. No. He feels grown up somehow. He thinks of Bee and Wymack too for some reason. And of his relationship with Aaron. Just thee fact that he has one. A relationship with no deal choking them. He’s gotten better. Not fixed. But better. Its not bad. 

Neil’s better too. He was able to keep himself from breaking apart. And he did it without Andrew. He thinks about what he was remembering, before. Of when he had unequivocally hurt Neil. And been forgiven. And so if Neil is forgiving him for this time. Then he can, as well. 

Theres a long silence. 

“It wasnt worthless. It wasn't nothing.” Andrew blurts. He knows he doesn't need to. They don't trade truths with each other like bargaining chips anymore. If they have a question they just ask. 

But this doesn't feel like an exchange. It feels more like its just the appropriate time to say it. Neil frowns lightly up at him. Waiting. 

“What you did. The reason you went to Evermore. You didn't succeed... but it wasn't for nothing.” Neil’s eyes go wide. Andrew’s propped up on his elbow and he’s not moving his hand from Neil’s hip anytime soon. But he wants to be close to this boy he loves. 

So he dips he's forehead to Neil’s, the latter closes his eyes. “It meant something. To me.” He breathes in the smell of him. “You were the first person to ever... try. You did... right by me.” It sounds awkward when he says it. He’s never been the one with good words. He used to not believe in them at all, used to hate them because they were only ever lies. But Neil is always giving him words, and they help. So he tries his best. 

It’s not a thank you, just a truth he never admitted. “What you did, because of— for me. It wasnt worthless.”

Neil says nothing, he touches at the inside of Andrews propped up arm and tilts his head up for a kiss. It’s not chaste, but there also isn’t any roaring fire behind it. Theres no building. Its just slow and lazy, and nice. It warms Andrew up somewhere deep inside his body. 

They stop after a little while and Neils hand rests on Andrew’s bare arm. He starts to stroke them and then yawns a bit. He opens his mouth to say something. Time to sleep, probably. He must be tired, its late. 

Instead he asks a question, “Do they itch?”

He traces the raised lines on his arm. Andrew is a little lost but he nods, “Yeah, sometimes.” He doesn't know why Neil asked that. And now he just nods. And smiles. It’s the most beautiful thing Andrew’s every seen. And the last of the ice that had frozen his stiff with a horrid fear melts away.

Neil is scratching lightly at his arm. At the old scars there. It’s light enough that Andrew relaxes, but hard enough that to feel the relief at the itching that Andrew learned to ignore so well. He hadn't realised it was still there. Until right now, when Neil’s made it feel better. It sends tingles through every part of Andrews body. 

“I’ll make you a deal,” Neil’s tone is light and conspiratorial. But theres something heavy in it too. 

He jerks his head to where Andrew is caressing his hip, with more care than he’s ever done anything before. “You keep doing that, and I’ll keep doing this.”

Andrew huffs lightly and the smallest smile escapes him.

He whispers his answer against Neil’s lips before he kisses him. 

“Deal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading this little fic i couldnt get out of my head for days. This is my first sexy scene, and i had trouble w the tags. If you want to suggest any please do. Also I love writing same sex couples, but I’ve got to say, trying to figure out how to switch up pronouns and names in 3rd person so that they werent ambiguous or confusing was a bitch. 
> 
> And a million thanks to my_unlikely_hero for the og work. Highly rec their [Young Trouble](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13630590), its the fucking best. 
> 
>  
> 
> If nothing else, the story is the embodiment of one of my fav (and hottest) Andriel songs: Ive Never Loved This Hard This Fast Before by Tami T. Titles all also from songs on here. Loosely follows the emotional arc i guess.  
> [Heres the playlist on spotify.](https://open.spotify.com/user/1214381520/playlist/2SoPehEu3opBsOGtdVC3Xq?si=VwXA4JFVRhi0spS6MeO8yQ)
> 
> Happy Hump Day Yall! (terrible pun intended).


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